Loyalty
by BrokenKestral
Summary: Three one-shots from the perspective of the Leopards in Aslan's camp.
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: Since this entire story is based on a small event in **_**The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe**_**, I can hardly claim it's mine, now, can I?**

**A/N: This should be part one of a three-part story. I'm hoping to post the chapters on consecutive days. **

OOOOO

Leo and Por were (well, I suppose they are, but this story starts in the past, so for the purposes of this story, they _were_) two brothers with a highly unusual gift. They often thought the same thought, in the same split second, and acted as one.

When they were tiny leopard cubs, their mother highly resented this gift, because both cubs were prone to investigating anything, and rather than keeping each other in check, their strange synchronicity allowed them to create double the trouble. It allowed them to jump from each other's backs above the snow, up the hill, and to play under the strange stone slab. It helped them time their leaps perfectly, to hit the door of a neighbor's house together and open it. She was not pleased.

Till the day the Secret Police came. Neither cub liked these intruders, and both sprang for the same tree at the same time. The Secret Police had expected fear and scattering, and in that split second both cubs escaped their snapping jaws.

As they grew older, the two learned not to say the same thing at the same time, but they still thought it. Every important thought, every defining discovery, was done together.

The moment they realised they hated winter, as cubs when it clumped together their fur.

The second they realised they'd fight the Witch and her army, as they watched their neighbors dragged away.

The instant they realised they might die doing so, discovering the Badger's cooling body.

They never said a word to each other. Both knew the other thought the same, and that was enough.

Leo was slightly larger, with sharper, stronger claws. Por was faster, and beat his brother in races with a cat's satisfied smile. They pushed each other to be better.

They pushed until they _were_ better, and Aslan's Own welcomed them in to their scattered army. For the first time, the two Leopards heard His name said again and again. _Aslan_.

When He shakes His mane, we will have spring again.*

Their ability to fight _together_ made them fight well. Though their mother grieved their involvement, they took more and more dangerous missions, gradually rising in the trust and respect of their peers. They grew in experience, strength, and hope.

Then one day they climbed the trees at the top of one of the two hills overlooking her castle, taking their turn to keep watch, and saw the snow sliding off the branches, and grass revealing itself as the white disappeared, they had the same thought.

_It is Aslan._

_Aslan's come._

They sought their captain first, a centaur named Orieus. His orders were short and simple. Follow Aslan's call to His camp, on the hill of the Stone Table.

And with identical bounds, the Leopards rushed past the Centaur and towards the sea, towards the hill, towards the camp. The camp that had Aslan.

They were far too experienced to run the whole way—no soldier wants to greet the King above all High Kings with his tongue hanging out and his side heaving—but they made their way with all possible speed, marveling at the way Narnia had come to life the day He came back to it.

The war would soon be over, they were sure. They had a hundred questions to ask Him about what life would be after the war was won.

They forgot each and every question the moment they saw Him.

As golden as the light of hope, as large as the strongest Beast, more good than the Witch was evil. They knelt before Him with every question hushed.

_This was Aslan._

_This was all._

OOOOO

**Any guesses as to which moment inspired this story?**

*Quoted from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe


	2. The Camp

**I'd fully intended to post this tomorrow, but WillowDryad won a conversation with my sensible side about chocolate, and the prize was picking tomorrow or today for the publication of the next part. So, here's the second chapter, thanks to WillowDryad!**

'_Tell your mistress, Son of Earth, that I grant her safe conduct on the condition that she leaves her wand behind her at that great oak.'  
__This was agreed to and two leopards went back with the Dwarf to see that the conditions were properly carried out. 'But supposing she turns the two leopards into stone?' whispered Lucy to Peter. I think the same idea had occurred to the leopards themselves; at any rate, as they walked off their fur was all standing up on their backs and their tails were bristling—like a cat's when it sees a strange dog.  
_—_The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe  
__Which was written by C.S. Lewis, not myself, and was also the quote that inspired this story._

_Beta'd by trustingHim17_

OOOOO

_It was Aslan_.  
Aslan, who knew their names. Aslan, who knew their past, and the way they worked together. Who knew their loyalty to Him had never faltered, and never would. He appointed them to a service, Leo to bear His crown, and Por to bear His standard.* Together, the two stood on either side of Him, with all the dignity Cats can muster, and watched the Narnians come. They came kneeling, bowing, laughing, crying, singing. Daring to _hope_. Together, when the days ended into warm summer nights, the two bowed to Aslan with a whisk of their tails and walked out of the camp to patrol, and there they saw Narnia itself come alive.

_Is it what you dreamed?_ asked Leo without speaking, looking to his brother and then around at the world they stood in.

_It's better,_ Por replied, sniffing the purple snapdragons at his feet.

_So it is._ Leo settled himself down with a sigh.

_Because of Aslan,_ they thought together.

More Narnians came and filled Aslan's camp with music. The Dryads and Fauns hoisted the ropes for a yellow, silken pavilion with crimson ropes, and above it all floated Aslan's standard, a red rampant lion.**

Then _the _day came. The Kings and Queens, foretold since time out of mind, walked into Aslan's camp.

Three of them, that is. A King and two Queens. The two Leopards saw and wondered; weren't there to be four? Perhaps Aslan would ask. The humans walked in on hesitant, stumbling legs, following after two Beavers, looking around at the beauty in the camp—till they saw Him. They met Aslan's eyes, and looked down.

There was a bit of whispering after that. Poor humans, it didn't seem they knew even whispers were very clear to many Beasts' ears. None of them wanted to go first. But then the King had drawn himself up, drawing his sword. He led the others. He led them, and spoke to Aslan. That took courage, Leo and Por knew, for the presence of Aslan is not so easy a thing to bear as one thinks, especially the first time.

But His voice eased all their fears. And Leo and Por had seen the High-King-to-be greet the One above all High Kings. On the green grass, with the faithful Narnians as witness, Aslan spoke to His King and Queens. Victory-

Was not yet complete. For Aslan did ask about the fourth, and the Witch's evil reached even here, in the midst of Aslan's camp. For the fourth had joined _her_ side.

Not Aslan's.

And still this traitor's youngest sister grieved for him. And still—somehow—Aslan said all would be done to save him.***

But now, said Aslan, was the time for rejoicing, and the camp at once celebrated. _Three_, Por said silently to his brother, counting them with his eyes.

Leo twitched. _I know_. And both of them wondered what would happen now; what Aslan's _all_ meant.

They did not have much time for such questions, for soon a thunderous sound—then screams—drew them bounding to the pavilion, and they found the Dryads and Naiads scattering, and a Wolf, one of their enemies, in their midst! They crouched, growls sliding from their throats, but they stopped at Aslan's ringing command.

"Back! Let the Prince win his spurs."

_Not fight?_ Por asked his brother, claws scratching the dirt with eagerness to get to this foe, and his brother breathed on his shoulder.

_For Aslan._ Together they stilled; together they watched the Prince, pale-faced and smelling of fear, stand his ground and thrust through the Wolf, saving his sister. Together they watched part of Aslan's army rush off to rescue the fourth, again by Aslan's command. And together they saw the Prince, his spurs won, kneel at Aslan's feet and be knighted.

* * *

_It was Aslan. He made the Prince a Knight_. Leo watched the stars that night in wonder, paw touching the place where the Prince had knelt.

Por glanced at the pavilion where their new charges slept, then towards Cair Paravel. _And He will make the Knight a King._ Por looked into the night, in the direction the Centaurs and Eagles had gone, and shifted his feet. He was uneasy. Leo looked at him. "Can He make a traitor a King as well?"

The sound of thudding hooves made them both crouch, teeth bared, their questions forgotten. Up, up the table they rushed, far too quickly to be anything but an attack—or Narnians seeking the safety of the camp.

Leo straightened up, his eyes slightly better than his brother's. _Safe_.

And thus it was the two Leopards were the first to see the fourth come into Aslan's camp, cradled, unconscious, small, and tear-stained, in the arms of one of Aslan's Centaurs.

They did not know where the new Prince was taken, nor how his family received him—the brothers were sleeping after their watch.

But they woke, sniffing the air, alarmed, when they smelled something. Something that should not have been there. Together—at once—they raced towards it, Por getting there first and pinning the source of the smell, a Dwarf, under his paw. "You are not one of Aslan's," he growled. Both brothers could smell it, the stench that made their stomachs turn, the stench of cold and magic. The Dwarf's own scent was lost in _her_ scent.

"Get off me!" the Dwarf demanded, hitting Por's leg. Por ignored him. "I'm sent by her Majesty the Queen of Narnia to deliver a message!"

The two brothers looked at each other.

_Stay here, my brother_. Leo glanced down at the Dwarf. _I go to Aslan._ He took one last sniff—nothing—and left his brother with the miserable creature. Leo would go to Aslan.

The Lion was by the Four. Leo approached. "Sire, there is a messenger from the enemy who craves audience."****

"Let him approach." Leo went back to his brother; Por let the Dwarf up the instant he saw his brother. Leo led the way to Aslan, Por staying a distance behind to make sure there were no more surprises.

There weren't. Por joined his brother in time to hear the Beaver's anger at the Dwarf's words as he called his mistress Queen. Por growled softly in agreement. _We have two queens here_, his eyes flicking to them.

Leo softly stepped on his front paw. _I know_. Both Leopards switched back to scanning the forest. _Were there more soldiers? Was this a surprise attack?_

_Had they both seen just enough of life to love it, only to lose it after all?_

Leo glanced at Aslan. _It would be worth it, to have seen Him_. Por looked to the King above all High Kings.

_Yes._ He looked at the standard he had not yet gathered that morning. _And to bear His standard_. They both brought their attention back as Aslan agreed to meet with the Witch—was she somewhere near?—and then stiffened. He'd given conditions—she could not bring her wand—and had nodded to the two brothers.

_He means us to go_, Leo said, flicking his eyes towards the direction from which the Dwarf had come.

_To meet the Witch?_ Por's fur had begun bristling. _And be turned to stone_? He glanced at the Stone Table.

But both brothers knew there was but one answer.

_For Aslan_. And they obeyed.

They walked behind the Dwarf, every strand of fur standing out. Following him down the hill, they walked into the trees, and saw the Witch.

One glance at her was enough. One glance to see her mouth twitching with passion, her eyes hard with cruelty, and her very presence sending chills through their fur and into their hearts. Forever, always, they would be glad they were Aslan's, though they turned to stone this instant.

But they did not. The Witch followed them, leaving her wand at the great oak. A few minutes later they were back in Aslan's camp, and took their places at His side.

Not for long. Aslan and the Witch spoke in private, and the two brothers stood, waiting.

_This does not feel like victory._ Por moved restlessly, the shivers still running through his spine.

_I know, brother. _Leo looked at the young Prince the Witch threatened, the Prince who had never once looked afraid, who had looked at Aslan only, with a look in his eyes both brothers knew well. Loyalty. Loyalty born of love. Surely Aslan would not lose such a prince. Leo shivered. _This does not feel like _victory. This_ feels more like fear._

Aslan called them back. The Witch had joy in her face, fierce joy, and the two brothers' fur rose on end. But her joy did not last—Aslan, the great King above all High Kings, rose and roared, and the Witch fled. With a single roar, Aslan won. The two brothers did not need to look at each other to know what they thought together.

_It is over._

_It is over because of Aslan._

OOOOO

*In _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ it says the leopards on either side of Aslan bore His crown and standard.  
**Descriptions are paraphrased from _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  
_***Aslan's line is also from Lewis' incredible book. Actually, all of Aslan's dialogue in this chapter is a quote, so I don't think I'm going to mark every incident. Just know if He speaks, it's Lewis' writing.  
****Also Lewis' words.


	3. The Battle

**Disclaimer: I merely came to a battle Lewis wrote and watched two particular characters. 'Tisn't mine.**

**Beta'd by the wonderful trustingHim17.**

OOOOO

Aslan left them. He was gone the next morning. Gone. He'd left the two Princes, and He'd spoken with them about winning their thrones. But Aslan was gone.

Por left the side of the new pavilion that the Narnians had erected so those needing it could sleep. He'd been listening to the Princes, the Centaurs, and other Narnians plan the battle. But Por needed to find his brother.

He found him on the nearest hill, overlooking the way they had come. Leo was so still that Por shivered with unease. He could not read his brother.

"What do you look for?" the smaller Leopard asked quietly.

"For a sign that our hope was not false."

Por pushed himself against his brother; his brother who was always a little bit stronger, but who was breaking now. "Look to the flowers at your feet, my brother." He reached one paw and gently touched the bluebells, causing them to sway. "Look at the end of winter."

"He _left_," Leo cried, his deep voice breaking. "We waited all our lives, and He _left_."

Por paused. This, too, hurt him deeply. But—there was one thing, one thing many said of Aslan. "He is not a tame Lion."*

Leo sighed. He lowered his head to sniff the bluebells. _I know._

Por shoved him. _Then act like it_.

Leo shoved him back, sniffing his head in pretend puzzlement. _When did you get so wise?_

Por shoved his brother away and patted Leo's head. _When you lost all your immense, unstoppable wisdom, it had to go SOMEWHERE_. He patted his own head.

Leo stopped play-wrestling and looked back to the camp. _The Princes._ Por stopped wrestling as well and stood beside his brother, both thinking of the other pair of brothers back in the camp.

_We give our loyalty to Aslan's Princes_, both agreed.

Throughout the morning, the two carried out every order their Princes gave, returning to the Sons of Adam as swiftly as possible. They carried messages, brought Dryads with food, looked for the Princes' missing sisters ("They must be with Aslan, Peter. He wouldn't leave them in danger"), and helped divide the army into groups. The Princes took their stand in a ravine between the Witch's house and the last place they'd seen the Witch, posting sentries at either end and in the trees.

The two brothers waited, waiting with the perfect patience of a predator. They were together, guarding the younger prince—he looked weaker, and would need more help in the coming battle.

They were thinking a thought they had thought once before. Once, long ago, when they were cubs. _We fight the Witch's army. We might die doing so._

_Now we know why it would be worth it._

_For Aslan._

No sentries warned them. The Witch turned them to stone where they stood, and her army fell on the soldiers at the other side of the valley. Prince Peter at once called out commands, and the battle began. The Leopards bounded at the younger prince's side, Por sliding between a sword and the prince, batting it away, Leo ripping down a Dwarf who came at them with a raised axe.

The prince himself took the Satyr, thrusting it through. As his brother had a Wolf.

Por licked his side, then looked to Edmund. _He is a Knight, like his brother._

Leo crouched and leaped over the Son of Adam, taking out an archer aiming for Edmund's head. He breathed out. _He fights well_, pausing to watch. They did not pause for long. The Prince headed right for the thickest part of the fighting. The place with the Witch.

Leo dodged as she turned her wand towards them, pushing Por aside as well. Up, up, jumping onto the head of a Minotaur, _claw_, ride it down! Por was already gone, dashing to the closest threat to the Prince. _We fight for him._

An evil dryad. Leo broke off her branches with his teeth. _We fight for Aslan_.

Por slid under an axe swing, coming up behind with claws extended. _We fight together._ He paused, and his brother looked at him. _Where is the Prince?_

A shattering sound! Both Leopards looked; in that brief moment the Prince had run forward, bringing his sword down, not into the Witch, but on her wand. The battlefield around them froze.

_He did it!_ They saw the blade swinging at him, his sword still extended towards the shattered wand.

_Get him down!_ Both Leopards leaped, but too late—they could see the red staining his side. _NO! Aslan, NO!_ They landed above him, snarling. Claws out, teeth bared, ripping, reaching, ducking—but not moving. They would not move. Not till they died or the battle was over.

She could not have him. Not their Prince. Not the Prince who shattered her wand.

"Where is she?" Por growled, panting. He snapped at the Hag reaching for him with her nails out.

"Gone towards the other end," Leo panted back, his back to his brother. He was wary, waiting for a Werewolf to pounce. It smiled, a slow, nasty smile, and bent its legs-

Only to freeze at a roar loud enough to shake all of Narnia from the Western lamppost to the shores of the Eastern Sea.** The Leopards looked up—the Werewolf looked up—the Hag looked up—every soldier on either side looked up as a golden Lion jumped forward onto a white figure, rolling together, but with white underneath.

_It is Aslan! Aslan!_

The hills streamed with figures, familiar ones, lost ones—soldiers Leo and Por never thought to see again—and the Werewolf and Hag shrieked and ran.

_Aslan has returned!_

_He brings our victory!_

The brothers crouched, began to jump—and checked themselves. Underneath them was still the Prince.

The King. Aslan, don't let him have fought, have won, have gained his throne, only to die!

Leo took in a breath. _Easy_. "Four thrones must be filled," he reminded Por. He nudged the prone, bleeding form. _We guard him till then._

The Dryads came to take him, pulling him a little way back from the fighting line, and the two Leopards followed wearily. Leo limped from a cut on his front leg he had not felt during battle, and Por's back throbbed with stab wound. But they stayed, a little ways off, till they knew he would be better. They stayed through the healing of their King at the hands of their Queen, and through his Knighting.

Bandaged, Por nudged Leo. _It is well_. Leo looked up from where his eyes were fixed on Aslan, to the other Narnians being healed by the returned Queen, to the small bandage around his leg, to Por grinning beside him, and smiled.

_It is well. _Both looked towards Aslan. Together, they thought once again, _Wrong now is right, for Aslan is in sight_.***

_It's over_.

_And there is Aslan._

OOOOO

*Said in various books throughout Lewis' series. Truly Aslan isn't.  
**The last part was written by Lewis.  
***Quoted from the rhyme in _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_.

**Response to Anonymousme: I'm intending to make a list of all the Narnian creatures I've created-Robin, Dourfog, these two, Ren and her cubs, ****etc...but finding time to do so seems rather impossible until after the holidays. :) But that does mean that yes, they'll probably show up again! I'm glad you liked the story. And I'm very, very glad you're enjoying Kidnapped; it's been fun to write. The next update for that should be Tuesday, and yes, it should include a bit of Rena. :) Quite a bit. I am honestly too tired today to think about the Maugrim/Fenris dilemma. I had been planning on just not using Maugrim at all. That may change-you made very good points, very logically, and communicated them well-but I'm kind of staring at my computer in a daze today. I'm so glad you found books! I love finding books at secondhand or consignment shops. At least half my (admittedly extensive) library came from those stories, it's how I afford to have so many. Have a good week!**


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